To Love a Nightmare
by Lyn Harkeran
Summary: A bunch of sequel oneshots to: A Very Unusual Way- Kristina Moran and Roman Sionis have many trials ahead, most of which leave them physically or mentally scarred. So why do they continue to stay together? And how does the Mob Boss Black Mask deal with loving someone? OC/Black Mask romance, angst, crime, and fluff (Batman TAS universe mixed with Arkham Origins)
1. Harder They Fall

**Harder they Fall**

* * *

Kristina was free-falling.

Hard and fast, like a bird with broken wings. Spinning colors danced in her vision, and the offending sound of prison alarms filled her ears as she drew closer and closer to the ground. Rapid gusts of wind rushed against her form as she fought with gravity and lost. It continued to pull and scrape her clothes across her body harshly, making her cry out painfully despite this being her choice. The feel of the fall was similar to a good old fashioned beating, though there would be far more bruises when this _hit _was done. That and in all probability . . . a _broken_ neck.

The woman breathed frantically as the fear of the moment consumed her, waving her arms and legs in a large swipes to try to gain purchase on one of the many ledges she was flying past. But with each attempt she failed, and thus kept falling. She was moving too fast to be able to grab onto something for safety, and the ground wasn't very far away anymore. In another moment she would land and it would all be over.

Gritting her teeth as her body finally stopped fighting the air currents; Kristina Moran let several anxious tears escape her frightened eyes as she silently fell to her _death_.

* * *

_**Several Days Prior. . .**_

It was 8:00 and her trap was set.

Kristina Moran- _Nightmare_- smiled to herself as she kicked back in her armchair and waited. It was only a matter of time before her invitation was answered, and she had vowed to enjoy every second of tonight. The woman was in desperate need for some fun after being cooped for nearly a month, and that's what she was going to get.

Good, adrenaline pumping,_ fun._

Ever since the incident where Harley had nearly blown her head off her shoulders, Roman Sionis had kept his promise. Kristina hadn't been touched by anyone or anything, and because of this, Nightmare's life was getting incredibly dull.

She was refused when she had asked to help with the bank jobs. Hell, she wasn't even allowed to pick up shipments anymore! And that was pure grunt work! The Boss had gone from devil-may care to overprotective in a heartbeat, and it was nothing short of infuriating.

But now, since the Mask had gotten himself locked away at Black Gate for some raunchy charges, Kristina was back in the game! Well . . . sort of. She would ultimately respect her man's wishes of staying safe, _once_ he was busted free. But until then, the world was free game!

Nightmare lay back in her chair like a giant jungle cat, stretching her muscles and yawning as the minutes ticked by and became an hour. But she wouldn't despair. Not when she knew that her trap was perfectly set.

By the time 10 o'clock was rolling around Kristina was getting a bit peeved, and was about to call it a night when her caller finally arrived. Crashing through the window, with a hammer twice her size grasped in her red and black gloved hands, Harley Quinn made a capital entrance. Nothing short of a stunning performance, seeing as it defied all logic that she had been able to swing into the seventh story window with the hammer in the first place. But it was a well-known fact that Harlequin made it an everyday practice to achieve the impossible.

"You know, you could have used the front door, Harley," Kristina said with an amused shake of her head, as she rose from her chair and approached the now surprised clown.

"Nightmare?" Harley looked confused as she took in her old friend and then the room she had crashed landed into. "What're you doin' here?"

Kristina smiled, "Just whiling away the hours. I'm glad you got my invitation."

Harley was silent for a moment before she started to guffaw loudly, snorting as large peals of laughter echoed throughout the nearly empty room.

"There isn't a vault in here, is there?" She finally asked when she had calmed down her laughter.

Kristina shook her head. "Nope, just me. Hope you don't mind."

Harley shrugged happily as she lowered her hammer, and lazily leaned against it. "Nah, sweetie, I don't mind at all! I'm just surprised ta see ya! How ya been?"

"I've been better actually," Nightmare answered back easily, sliding her eyes over the hammer and yet again wondering how on earth the small clown could carry it around so effortlessly. "I need your help."

Harley looked slightly uncomfortable, "Oh yeah? What with?"

Kristina reached out her hand and placed it on Harley's shoulder soothingly. "Calm down, Harley. I've forgiven you for last month. I know that sometimes you're forced to do things you don't want to do, by the people ya love the most."

The names_ Joker_ and _Black Mask_ instantly popped into the two women's minds, but neither stopped to bring notice to it, for Kristina immediately continued.

"I've got no hard feelings, Harls. . . I just wanted to offer you a good old fashioned con-job."

Where there had been uncertainty in the Clown Princesses' eyes, now only pure excitement shone. Harley Quinn's moods really were changeable. . . It was quite similar to how a child would react. One minute angry or upset about the injustices of their world, and the next, happily eating some candy and singing themselves a song.

Though in Harley's case, it was both innocent and horribly strange.

"What job, sweetie?" Harley finally asked curiously.

"My man's in Black Gate," Kristina answered truthfully. "I'm gonna bust him out, and I would appreciate having someone there to watch my back."

Harley openly giggled and clapped her hands together; seeming to forget the large hammer she was supposed to be holding. The gigantic weapon fell to the ground with a loud bang, making both Kristina and Harley jump. Then they both laughed together.

"Count me in, Nightmare!" The pretty clown crowed ecstatically, "Whatever ya need, I gotcha! We'll break ole Sionis outta the clinker, not sweat!"

"Thanks Harley, I'll owe ya one!"

The Clown Princess grinned. "Nah, we'll just call us square! So tell me, what kinda prison break did ya have in mind?"

Kristina Moran returned her friend's toothy grin in kind. "It's funny you should ask Harley. It's funny you should ask. . ."

* * *

_**Current time . . .**_

Roman Sionis was numb as he pulled himself away from the window of his prison cell, and felt the world seem to momentarily crash upon his weary shoulders.

Kristina was _dead. . ._

Only seconds prior he had gazed out at the outer wall of Black Gate Prison and witnessed her familiar form free-falling to the cement courtyard several stories below. He had called out to her, panic driving him to the brink of insanity as he watched helplessly. But it had been in vain.

Roman had turned away before her body hit the pavement, but he had known the moment it did. The sound was horrific and at the echoing _crack_, the Mob Boss had shut his eyes tight.

It was too much. . . Too much memory, sight, and sound. It wasn't possible. . . It just couldn't be.

His woman couldn't be gone . . . not _now_. Not here at Black Gate. . . Not like _this._

Slowly, Black Mask felt stone cold anger take precedence over his heartbreak, and it was like a switch had flipped in his brain. No more mourning or sorrow, only red hot pain and hate. He was seething, and somebody was gonna pay. Whoever had pushed Kristina over the edge of the roof, or stupidly stood by and let her jump had another thing coming. They would wish that it had been _them_ who had painted the cement red, when he was done with them. That was a bonafide promise.

And at the prompting of an undeniable impulse, the man launched his fist at his cell wall, and unleashed some of his emotion into the crack he had just created. But it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough, at this point . . . Other than someone's head on a platter.

Black Mask lifted his fist to hit the wall again, and would have continued to pummel the tiled wall if it hadn't been for someone clearing their throat obnoxiously from the doorway of his cell. Snapping his gaze up with fiery eyes, he was met with the goofy grin of the last person he had expected.

"Q-Quinzel?"

Harley Quinn- dressed in a prison guard's uniform, and lacking her usual makeup- made a silly face at him before she fully entered the small room. Where she had gotten the needed key-card or passwords was beyond Sionis, but there was too much on his mind in that moment, so he didn't think to ask.

"One in the same, Sionis," she said with a firm nod. "Did-ja miss me?"

Black Mask glared at the clown before he snarled, "Hell no, I didn't miss ya! Now get out!"

"I would, Sionis, in a heartbeat. Cause I really don't like ya! But Nightmare wants ya outta Black Gate, so I have ta play nice."

There was silence for a long minute before Roman's deadly voice stated three words.

"Nightmare. Is. DEAD."

At the steady growl of his voice, and the absolute murder in his eyes, anyone in their right mind would have run away crying, but not Harley. No, instead of doing the smart thing, she tipped her head back and laughed merrily.

Roman decided to kill her almost instantly, but first he would know what had made her laugh and make her regret it.

"What joke's so funny that it's worth your life, Quinzel?"

For a moment Harley couldn't speak, but she finally was able to huff, "Atta girl, Kristina! She played yous like a violin! Ab-sol-lutely perfect!"

Black Mask did a double take.

"What the hell are you talkin' about?"

Harley flashed the Mob Boss an extremely crazy grin as she answered. But Black Mask's expression put hers to shame as her words registered in his anger-ridden mind.

"Kristina is still _alive_, Sionis! She set up her fall so we'd have the proper distraction ta spring ya loose! Looks like she did a convincing job, huh? Gotcha all angry and bent fer revenge, when she hasn't even kicked the bucket! Haaaahh haaaahhhh!"

"H-How?" The Mask stuttered in shock. "I saw her fall! How could she make it look and sound so real? . . ."

"Geez, Sionis! Lighten' up! We're con-bimbos," Harley said with another laugh. "It's our job ta fool people! But I promise ya she's alive and waiting fer ya back at yer ha-ha-hacienda. Now I gotta getcha outta here before those party-poopers come back, or Nightmare'll kill me!"

After a moment more of shocked inaction, Black Mask slowly- but willingly- followed Harley back into the prison corridor, and down past several KO'd guards to an inconspicuous checkpoint. Here- as Harley swiped the stolen key card- she bid Sionis to grab the coat and hat off of one of the sleeping guards.

"Slip em on, or they'll recognize ya and this'll all be for jack squat!"

Roman quickly shrugged on the coat and expertly put the hat on his head, covering his hair and face, before he and Harley once more began to walk past the thick steel-based door. They went through the innards of the building and soon enough they came out of a secondary exit. As Harley punched in a set of memorized numbers into the final keypad and the last door opened for them, she offered another warning.

"Act normal, Sionis, and make sure ta keep that hat on. If we can get past these guys and outta the line of the snipers we'll be in teh clear!"

Black Mask nodded, and together the two cons exited the prison and walked across the sniper based outer wall, before finally reaching the employee parking lot. Harley walked over to an inconspicuous, crappy old mini-van and motioned for him to follow. Once they were both inside the van, Harley exhaled a large sigh of relief and started the engine.

"Free 'n clear, baby! Free 'n clear!"

And as they pulled away from Black Gate Prison, Roman Sionis couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. Nor could he control it when it became a full-fledged laugh. Impressed, happily surprised, and secretly relieved, Black Mask smiled.

Not only was he free, but Kristina was still alive!

Silently the Mob Boss marveled at the details that were still unknown to him, and internally bowed his head to the genius of the plan.

It was an indisputable fact: his little woman was truly something else.

* * *

_**A/N: **_Here's another commission for my dear friend !

Originally I had planned for this to be a direct (retribution) sequel to _****__A Very Unusual Way _but the story had other plans. The stinker wrote itself and damned all of my fine plans. lol XD

But on a positive note, now both Black Mask and Nightmare have gotten the better of each other. So it's all evens now! lol ^^

_Disclaimer: I do not own DC Universe, Black Mask, Harley Quinn, Blackgate, or Nightmare. _

**_~Lyn Harkeran_**


	2. January 22nd

**January 22****nd**

* * *

It was the 22nd of January, and Gotham was on fire. Throughout the large metropolitan city flames lashed out from both elite and lesser buildings and dwellings. Everywhere one looked, there was flickering bursts of orange and red, and as time went on it only got worse.

The reason for the fires was simple, but it seemed that the solution wouldn't be so clear-cut.

The ever-climbing fires were the direct result of multiple bombings that had been set off in several hot spots around Gotham. They had been timed to go off at the same time, and the damage had been nothing short of monumental. There had been no warning. No time to react or counterattack. Nearly twenty different locations blowing sky-high all at once- bloodily rocketing people and buildings alike- ultimately adding to the process of destroying another piece of the already crumbling city.

The precision based arson had been the deadly declaration of a turf war amongst the Bosses of Gotham, bringing on an all-out brawl between thugs and Bosses alike. Currently it was a blanket threat, but originally these bombings had been intended for only _one _Mob Boss. Though rather than taking chances, the bombs had been placed in every hot spot the man inhabited. A man that had been on the figurative chopping block for a long time. . .

None other than Black Mask himself.

* * *

Kristina Moran- the acclaimed _Nightmare-_ raised her wine glass to her chapped and bloody lips, slowly taking a long pull from the ruby liquid as she cringed painfully. The young woman had been in many hateful scrapes in her lifetime, but tonight had put all her other close-shaves to shame. She had barely managed to get out alive, and there were new marks on her body where scars would definitely form- both internally and externally.

There had been talk of a turf war for years, but no one had ever thought that it'd actually happen. Let alone, on a full city scale. But it had happened- it _was _happening- and there had been losses . . . more casualties than anyone was willing to count.

Kristina took another sip from her wine, and as she did so, hot tears slid down the crystal surface, silently mixing with the alcohol – not that the woman noticed nor cared. She was hurting too badly to care about something as petty as her drink. In fact, she was too numb to be concerned about much of anything, save the clenching of her heart and the sharp pain in her chest and sides.

Nightmares' night had started out completely ordinary- and now as the woman looked back on the events in order, she knew that there was no way that she could have known what was coming. No way that she could have prevented the horrific ordeal or awful outcome.

She had run a couple of errands for her boss- _Roman Sionis_, otherwise known as _Black Mask_- finished a large bundle of paperwork for several drug and gun shipments, and brought in five containers of Chinese takeout- if there was one thing Nightmare had learned in her years of running with the Mask, it was that it took a mountain of food to sate his appetite.

Kristina had been in the middle of penning a letter for her employer- while he dictated between bites of sesame chicken- when the first bombs went off. It had started with a deep rumbling like a volcano eruption and then turned into a deafening roar as blinding lights lit up the smoggy Gotham sky. Kristina's eyes had gone wide in confusion and fear right before Black Mask had jumped on top of her- covering her body with his own as a way of protection. Then, in all but a few seconds, Black Masks' headquarters had been blown to kingdom come.

Kristina sobbed silently, choking on her acid-like tears as the memory of her boss kissing her forehead as the floor crumpled beneath them looping again and again in her minds' eye. He had given her a soft smile- something rare for the likes of Black Mask- and his dark eyes had been comforting, almost as if he was saying goodbye to her . . . then everything had collapsed, intense pain had snapped through her entire body, and the world had gone black as pitch.

When Nightmare had opened her eyes once more, the building was nothing more than charred rubble and she had been in too much pain to move. After an unknown amount of time, the woman had finally been able to push off the blocks of stone from her body and crawl painfully out of the wreckage. There had been no sign of Roman anywhere, or any of the bosses' boys for that matter. All that met her swollen, tender light blue eyes was destroyed bricks and stone, and unforgiving blood red flames. Kristina had screamed into the night, holding her side as her broken ribs forced her to her knees, as she came to the realization that she was the only one left. Her boss . . . her man- _her_ Roman- was gone. . . She was all alone.

The woman currently placed her wine glass on the table next to her, and took a shaky breath. She had always known the risks of working for a Mob Boss- Roman had made the possible outcomes quite clear to her- and yet she had never been prepared for something like _this. _Sure, she had looked death in the eye with every sour drug deal; every fight possibly being her last . . . and she had accepted that. . . But never had Kristina thought that Roman Sionis would precede her to the grave. She'd never dreamed that he'd leave her first.

But he had. And Kristina was numb and broken.

Sluggishly, the woman settled back in her armchair, cuddling into herself as her ribs protested against her movement. She could have made the walk into her bedroom, or even phoned an ambulance- heavens knew that she probably needed one- but Nightmare merely sat in stony silence. And as the minutes ticked by and became hours Kristina's eyes began to droop and a fitful sleep overtook her. For a time she floated in nothingness, but when she began to dream a noise brought her back to consciousness, making her alert despite her injuries.

Kristina blinked several times, becoming completely focused when the noise repeated itself. The woman quietly reached out for the glock that had been resting in her lap and stiffly stood from her chair, clicking off the safety with a well-trained thumb. With muffled footsteps- thanks to the heavily carpeted floor of her apartment- Kristina moved towards the intruder, following his unabashed sound making with apprehension.

In truth, Nightmare had expected this. She was the Mask's second in command after all, and that would mean that there would be a price on her head due to Sionis' untimely demise. So, the woman faced the reality of the moment with grim determination. Whoever had come to silence her would get a bullet first. She wouldn't keel over without a fight, and she would make sure that Roman's sacrifice wasn't for nothing. She would live and find those responsible for this war; or die trying.

Kristina followed the noises throughout her apartment and finally came to a destination: her bedroom. The woman couldn't help but smile bitterly to herself. The bastard thought that she was sleeping peacefully in her bed, did he? Well, he was about to find out how stupid making assumptions could be. Nightmare entered the room, and immediately cocked her gun, pointing it at the intruder with deadly precision and not an ounce of mercy.

"Turn around, scum," she said- her voice raspy and low from the fire smoke and wounds she had endured. "Do it slowly; or I'll end you where you stand."

The room was dark- but from her place at the door, Kristina could see the figure move to obey her command. With a flash of adrenaline, the woman reached out her hand and expertly flicked on the bedroom light.

Instantly, her jaw dropped and her eyes glazed, for the sight that met her was nothing that she had come close to imagining.

Within her bedroom, the Batman stood in all his glory- though his suit was burnt in places and charred in others- his intent eyes studied her cautiously, eyeing the gun. But it was the figure that was currently lying on her bed that made Kristina gasp aloud. Roman Sionis- the one and only Black Mask- was sprawled atop of her large purple comforter, covered in more cuts and bruises than the woman had ever seen, and completely unconscious.

"R-Roman . . ." Instantly, the glock slipped from Kristina's hand as she tried to rush to her man, but due to her ribs and beaten body she buckled under the pressure and began to fall to the floor. But just before she hit the ground, two strong hands reached out to grab her, stopping her before she made contact with the floor. The hands at her waist made Kristina cry out in pain, and the grip obligingly loosened, before helping her stand up again.

The woman looked up to the masked face of the Bat- the one who had caught her- and gave him a single nod that she was alright. The Dark Knight returned it, but kept his hold on her as he helped her over to the bed where Roman Sionis lay immobile.

It was strange being so close to Batman- seeing as Kristina hadn't dealt with him since she had run with Joker and his crew- at which time the Bat had clobbered her more than once. And the woman found that he was just as intimidating and powerful as he had ever been- and yet tonight as he guided her to her bed, Kristina found that he was surprisingly gentle_. . . _almost bordering on . . . _comforting. _ And Nightmare, not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, accepted the rarity of the situation without question.

When she was safely sitting on the bed beside the out cold mob boss, Batman completely let her go.

The room was silent for several long moments, before Kristina finally found her voice.

"How Batman? _Why_? . . . You rescued Roman and brought him here to me, instead of hauling him to Blackgate? . . . I don't understand."

Batman gazed at her steadily before he began to explain.

Kristina was once more shocked, for it was the most she had ever heard the caped crusader talk, and his voice was different than she remembered. . . Calmer, more resigned.

"The bombings tonight were specifically targeting the Crime Bosses of Gotham, Kristina: Rupert Thorn, Two-Face, Falcone, Dagget, Boxy, and Sionis," at the mention of her man's name, Kristina shuddered. "Joker wants the Crime scene to himself, so he put the bombs in motion to create absolute anarchy. That with the added ransoms he placed on their heads, the Bosses never stood a chance."

"Joker's the one who wants us dead," Kristina asked as her stomach drew into a tight knot, and Batman nodded once. "But why?"

"Does the Joker need a reason?"

Was that humor in the Dark Knight's tone? Kristina didn't linger on the thought, for it was too strange to comprehend.

"Point taken. . . But why did _you _help us, Batman?"

The Bat didn't answer the question, but instead moved towards the open window to gaze out to the blood-soaked winter evening with unreadable eyes. "You two are still targets, Kristina; but you've been announced dead to the media and drug cartels. That should keep Joker off your trail long enough for me to deal with the fires and other Bosses. Until things cool down you need to stay inside."

"But Roman needs a hospital," Kristina interjected, panic stricken. "I can't take care of all of his injuries."

"I know," Batman agreed deeply, his voice seeming to echo all over the room. "Do the best you can; I'll be back once I've taken care of Joker."

Kristina watched as the vigilante prepared to depart, and found that her chapped, blood-stained lips were turning up into an actual smile. Then as the Dark Knight shot his grapple out the window, Nightmare found herself whispering something she'd never have dreamed she'd say in a million years.

"Thank you, Batman."

The savoir of Gotham didn't answer, but it was obvious that he had heard her gratitude, for he paused to acknowledge it. Then- as Kristina Moran watched- Batman swung out into the fiery night, leaving her alone with her beloved Black Mask and a relieved laugh on her tired lips.

* * *

_**A/N:** _Yet another installment to Kristina and Roman Sionis' story. ^^ I don't have much to say except this is my first time ever writing the B-Man and I'm honestly pleased with it. I've written many of Gotham's Villains, but never its Hero.

Please drop me a line and let me know if Batman was in-character. I want to know how I can improve, and without feedback I'll never know. :D

Have a great day guys!

_**~Lyn Harkeran**_


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